


mansueto

by Bratty



Category: Purple Haze Feedback - Fandom, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: F/M, Jojo spinoff, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure part 5: Vento Aureo, Post-Canon, Purple Haze Feedback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bratty/pseuds/Bratty
Summary: Sheila E. works on her remaining fear of Purple Haze. Pannacotta Fugo isn't very eager.(Edited for better story telling. These two deserve the extra effort.)





	

Fearless, they called her. Among other things, of course. Brave, agile. Out of her mind, but only a little. Still, the wild thing with twin braids did have one fear, and the source of such a primal emotion laid beneath the lithe, male frame of a little someone named Fugo.

Pannacotta Fugo, to be perfectly clear. Not a boy, not yet a man. Eighteen years old, ripe and matured, to an extent. Heartache and hardships had shaped him to be the person he was today, and it showed in the worry lines carved into the skin of his forehead. Sheila E. liked to think that his head of white had been the aftermath of early onset, deep rooted stress. 

Nevertheless, as angry and volatile as he could become at times, it was no question that his short fuse had been greatly improved since the loss of three of his dear friends. Pannacotta Fugo wasn't the source of her fear.

He called it Purple Haze, after a well-known Jimi Hendrix track Sheila E. hadn't ever bothered to look into. A figure hunched in what seemed like everlasting agony, the sort that made it restless and paranoid, and uncontrollably delirious. Foam at the mouth, bloodshot eyes that surveyed an area frantically, eyes that would forever remained unfocused. Its mannerisms weren’t much better. Purple Haze was insane in the way it responded to victory and failure, and its reactions were always over the top. From guttural grunts and snarls to deranged laughter and giggling, everything about Purple Haze made every hair on Sheila E.’s body stand on end. And those weren’t even its worst qualities, though they definitely added to the horror factor.

The virus Purple Haze spread without concern or care for whoever it infected was what shook Sheila E. She had seen it in action, against the old man Vladimir Kocaqi, and again during the fight with Massimo Volpe and Angelica Attanassio. She'd heard from Giorno Giovanna that Fugo had used the same ability against her hated foe, Illuso, way back when. As much as she could appreciate the suffering inflicted on Illuso by Purple Haze’s Feral Virus, just the thought that Fugo couldn’t yet fully get ahold of Purple Haze, the thought that it could happen to her on accident, made her very uneasy.

The virus ate away at flesh, and bone, and muscle, and tissue, and it did so with an unstoppable hunger. Its damage was irreversible, once the virus had you by the balls. Within seconds, you'd be reduced to nothing. Where you once stood, would stand nothing but empty space. It was raw, and greedy, and it didn't matter who it was attacking. Utterly ravenous.

Yes, Sheila E. was afraid of Purple Haze. But the girl with wild eyes, and a battle worn Heart would not let herself cower in the presence of the terrifying Stand. She was willing to face her fears, even if it meant dying in the process. If there was ever a situation in which her and Fugo had to fight alongside each other once more and she froze under the crushing aura of Purple Haze? No. She wouldn't even let herself think of how disappointed Don Giovanna would be if that happened.

The ravenette tried her hardest not to let her hesitance show, and her efforts paid off. Just by looking, one wouldn't have been able guess she was so very afraid. Her voice was steady, and her tone was sharp, as it always was. "Bring out your Purple Haze," she demanded.

They were in an empty parking lot, reserved by Don Giovanna at her humble request. It wasn't a hard venue to acquire, and it was quiet and out of the way. Definitely ideal, considering the events about to unfold. Wouldn't want any innocent casualties. Fugo stood a few feet in front of Sheila E., looking a little more than just a little nervous. This was something he would rather not be doing. He’d said so himself, in fact. Not that Sheila E. took any of it into account. The boy swallowed hard before speaking.

"We don't have to do this if you-"

"Bring it out, Fugo," snapped Sheila E., not allowing the strangely clad youth to finish his sentence, to embarrass her further. Fugo resigned a moment later, understanding her motive better than anyone else ever could.

Purple Haze materialized besides Fugo with an ugly snarl, fists clenching and unclenching, figure twitching. This time around, the Stand's host didn't look away from his soul's manifestation in shame, or in loathing. This time around, Fugo held his head high and allowed himself a glance at the stuff of nightmares only he could conjure up. Purple Haze looked back at Fugo, and for a second, it seemed as if the two had come to a silent agreement, what that agreement may have been, Sheila E. couldn't tell. But then, Fugo was looking back at her. With a nod, he prompted her to approach.

And approach she did. Taking a deep breath, she put a foot in front of the other and repeated the motion until she was close enough for Purple Haze to reach. The Stand lunged right at her, throwing to the wind any caution Fugo tried to put into its movements. Sheila E. had to duck out of the way to avoid its deadly fists. The Miss only enraged Purple Haze. They were attacks close enough to graze her time and time again, but never enough for the force to break the capsules in Purple Haze's knuckles. Only she, who was as agile and quick as a feline, could have avoided them. Sheila E. spared Fugo a glance, and she could see his distress, and even more, she could feel it. The Stand began to dissipate, and that's when Sheila E., even through her trembling, shrieked.

"Don't! I have to do this!"

Fugo looked about ready to snap back an unreasonable response, she could tell by the furrow of his eyebrows and the clench of his teeth, but he bit it back and forced himself to leave Purple Haze exposed.

Fugo's frustration fueled his Stand, whose movements became even more capricious and hard to follow. Sheila E. tried to move quicker, but couldn't. Its fists were so fast, the movements blurred together. All she could do to save herself was back away. For a moment, Sheila E. broke concentration to shoot Fugo a nasty glare. The slender male could only growl in apprehension and step forward to make sure she didn’t escape Purple Haze’s range. Seems like she had gotten her point across.

Purple Haze caught her eyes when her attention snapped back it. It was close enough that she could make out every grotesque detail on its face. Her eyes widened, her body became heavy, and suddenly, carelessly, she lost her footing in the midst of her fear. The world went quiet, muffled by the ringing in her ears and the hard, loud pounding of her heart. With such an immense amounts of adrenaline coursing through her every nerve, she couldn't even process the sharp pain of her twisted ankle, even as she crumpled to the floor. It all moved in slow motion.

Kneeling now, completely at the mercy of Purple Haze, Sheila E's eyes screwed shut. Her breath wavered as she struggled to grasp at whatever was left of her usual resolve. Caught between her fight or flight instincts, Sheila E. decided that the best course of action was to shield her face and her core, so she did. Somewhere not too distant, though it sounded distant, she could make out the panicked yells of Pannacotta Fugo as she braced for impact.

It all went quiet a moment later. Sheila E. could feel herself trembling, sweating, she could feel the lightheadedness resulting from her abnormal breathing. She could feel her ankle throbbing. But she couldn't feel a hard fist anywhere on her body, couldn’t feel any flesh-eating virus consuming her alive. The young woman remained as she was, body too tense to move a single millimeter. The lack of Fugo freaking out in the background compelled her to face whatever sight had silenced him.

Taking three quick breaths, she tentatively opened her eyes.

Purple Haze had joined her on its knees, and had her by the throat. Its figure enveloped her, casting a menacing shadow over her smaller frame. To her surprise and gratitude, its fingers weren't gripping her hard enough to choke her. Pressure was still present, however, make no mistake. Its other hand, clenched into a fist, hovered just over the side of her head. A fatal blow, had it ever come in contact with her. The Stand heaved through clenched teeth and stitches with no reason other than to appear even more disturbed. Purple Haze was fouler up close.

The hand around her neck loosened and let go, only to grab at the forearm of the arm that blocked her face from damage and yank it aside with all the roughness of a wrecking ball, leaving her with an exposed face and a possibly dislocated shoulder. Sheila E. only whimpered. How pathetic, she thought. This wasn't how someone like her was supposed to react. She was meant to be vicious, violent. Not meek and weak.

Eyes moving quickly from Purple Haze's face, to its fist, she watched as its fingers unfurled, watched as its now unclenched hand moved closer to her face, bringing those threatening capsules closer to her skin. Holding onto her pride, Sheila E. forced herself to remain still and quiet, as much as her body screamed at her to get away.

The hand cupped her cheek almost affectionately, and it was almost enough to make the girl relax. But relaxing in such a situation would be foolish, she knew. Purple Haze wasn't a Stand she would ever let her guard down around.

Its eyes were still ablaze with bottomless mania, and it was still foaming at the mouth, and its body remained twitching and moving unnaturally, inhumanly, but it held her so- Dare she think it.

It held her so tenderly.

Sheila E. exhaled shakily, tense muscles easing just the slightest bit. Purple Haze brought its other hand to her the side of her neck and this time, it merely caressed her damp skin with the greatest care anyone had ever touched her with. Though, mind you, people were usually quite rough with her. Why, she could almost melt against the strange feeling welling up in her heart, she could almost lean in to Purple Haze’s touch.

This did nothing to quench her fear of Fugo’s Stand, but it did comfort her, somewhat.

Purple Haze couldn't bring itself to harm her, not intentionally at least. That's the only thing this could have meant. And by that logic.

Well. Pannacotta Fugo must care a great deal about her.

Following her train of thought, Sheila E.'s eyes met Fugo's, and she noticed a few things all at once.

His eyes were trained on her in return, and his stare didn't falter when she looked back.

His mouth was agape in shock and awe as he watched the scene from not too far away.

His pale face was as pink as a strawberry. It was almost comical.

At that moment, she remembered every lingering look he sent her, every worried furrow of his eyebrows every time she returned to him harmed, the angry curl of his lips whenever she insisted to carry out a job alone. Fugo had always expressed this sentiment. He’d always show how he truly felt. Sheila E. felt foolish for just now coming to this realization.

All of a sudden, Purple Haze dissipated at his command, and Sheila E. was left swooning in relief. At last, time resumed at its regular pace. She allowed herself a breather, falling back onto the pavement below so her tense body could rest for a moment. Fugo came to her, his voice soft and raspy, as it always was. Sheila E. found her composure in his concern.

"I told you, I. I still can’t control it completely."

It was as much of an ‘I told you so’ as it was a cheap excuse for the strange actions of his own soul’s projection. The comment was accompanied by his outstretched hand. It was a silent offer that Sheila E. took without really thinking about it. Normally, she would have stood by herself. Normally, she wouldn't have given in to anyone's help, save for Don Giovanna, of course.

But in the aftermath of the confrontation, she couldn't help wanting to reserve a special place in her heart for Pannacotta Fugo as well.

Her grip was firm, and so was his. He pulled her up without much difficulty, but didn't let go right away, even after Sheila E. had found somewhat solid footing. With that ankle, Fugo would have to help her along.

Pink still dusting over his cheeks, he threw her good arm over his shoulders to keep her steady, and she didn't object. Instead, she leaned into his body in what could be considered rare display of fondness.

Nothing more needed to be said between the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hahahaha I wrote this in like An hour. I don't expect people to read this because whats Purple haze feedback amirite? ((READ Ittttt))
> 
> I shipped these two reading the spin off and they deserve at least once fan fic together, so I figured-
> 
> I hope it's nothing too bad 
> 
> Enjoy


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